


Unconscious

by MsChievous



Series: Whump/Inktober 2019 [9]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, Injury, Kinda, Minor Injuries, Poor Prompto Argentum, Sickfic, Whump, concerned Noctis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 15:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20977913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsChievous/pseuds/MsChievous
Summary: Prompto doesn't show up to Noctis' place so the prince goes looking for him. Prompto's not exactly in a good way.Day 10 of Whumptober





	Unconscious

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sick so now prompto's sick, enjoy

Noctis glanced at his phone, then tapped his fingers against the couch cushion. A half an hour late? That wasn’t like Prompto at all, especially not answering texts or letting him know ahead of time. The prince nibbled on his lip thoughtfully. “Hey, Iggy?” he called to his advisor in the next room, “can we drop by Prom’s place?”

“I was under the impression that he was coming over here. Did the plans change?”

“Not really, but he’s late. And he’s not answering my texts. I just wanna make sure he’s okay.” 

Ignis sighed. “The gratin still has ten minutes to cook. But afterward, I would be amenable.” 

“Alright, ten minutes then.”

*** 

The gratin took an extra five minutes to cook because Ignis  _ insisted _ it wasn’t ready even though it looked and smelled fine. But nooo, the potatoes had too much “bite” whatever the fuck that meant, and then in needed the cheese drizzled on top right away, so by the time they finally shuffled into the car, Noctis was in a  _ mood _ .

His mood was not assuaged by Ignis’ passive-aggressive tapping on the steering wheel or his insistence on keeping the music volume down. It made for an all-in-all annoying car ride that he half-regretting going on in the first place. He should have just driven himself. Ignis still wouldn’t have been happy, but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with the man’s attitude.

When they finally made it to Prompto’s condo, he barely gave the advisor a sideways glance before shuffling up to the front door and ringing the doorbell. After a minute of silence, he peered through one of the windows, then tried again. Still no answer. He glanced back at Ignis who raised an eyebrow at the wait.

Noctis shrugged back, then dug out his copy of the key from his back pocket and turned the key. He was surprised to find it unlocked, so he opened the door and leaned in uncertainty. “Hey, uh, Prompto?” the prince called, “It’s Noct. I-I know you told me I was welcome any time, but, uh…” he paused, stepping through the doorway. “Prompto?”

Unease twisted in his gut and he slipped off his shoes. “Hey, Prompto, you there?” Carefully, he shuffled through the first floor. It was like walking through a dollhouse - a chair pulled out from the table, an empty cereal box on the counter, some mail stuffed into a metal tray, yet it was completely silent. 

When his sweep of the first floor turned up no results, he made his way carefully to the second floor. “Prompto?” he called. His footsteps creaked against the floorboards as he made his way to his friend’s room. 

However, the second he crossed over the threshold, he stopped short in horror. “Prompto!” he cried, dashing forward to kneel beside his best friend. The two brain cells not currently preoccupied with Prompto’s unconscious body rubbed together, and he remembered to call Ignis.

“Highness, is something the matter?”

“Y-yeah. Prom’s hurt. I-it looks like he hit his head? He’s still bleeding I think?”

On the other line, he heard Ignis’ sharp intake of breath. “Very well. I’ll be up momentarily. See if you can wake him, and we’ll get him to a hospital as quickly as possible.”

Noctis carefully patted the side of Prompto’s cheek, heart clenching when he felt how feverish he seemed. “Hey, bud, wake up for me, okay? Please?”

The blond stirred but didn’t wake as Ignis burst into the room. “Still no luck?” the advisor asked. Noctis shook his head. “Hospital it is then.”

* * *

Noctis curled up in the chair beside Prompto’s hospital bed, staring morosely at his friend’s sleeping form. He was so pale, washed out by the light blue hospital dress and stark white sheets. 

_ Extremely high fever _ , the doctors had said,  _ minor dehydration _ , they had said. They hypothesized that Prompto had been sick and weak for a while and had hit his head during a dizzy spell.

He hadn’t even known the blond was sick. What the fuck kind of friend was he?

**Author's Note:**

> wanted this to be longer with more of a focus on Prompto, but then Noctis butted his concerned head in so here we are


End file.
